#unnamed-proxy

[rayofmisfortune]

https://www.tumblr.com/rayofmisfortune/780186598748913664

*wobbles over * ,,,,,, waigt you like cookie run…. ?

YEA I DO!!

I used to play it a while back and I redownloaded it three? four??? days ago!

It's been so long my grasp on the lore is nonexistent 😭 the last I played was during the frost queen cookie event? It's been so long omg, I somehow have the Disney cookies even tho I don't really remember playing at the time lol

[thedenofravenpuff]

Truly, the only thing keeping Sun from any kind of substance abuse is the fact that the Celestial Family in SAMS still strictly sees themselves as animatronics and not biomechanical like the rest of the TSBS cast.

Except for when the joke calls for it, cuz Jesters

CANNON ARTWORK OF SUN GETTING DRUNK ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[virtual-minotaur]

some more

[sasaranurude]

I forgot about my mhyk bradnero roleswap AU fic... Wherein Bradley escapes capture so Figa+snowhi take Nero instead (because all they really needed is a symbol of villainous wizards, it's not about the action itself, it's just the optics of it, so Nero works just as well as Brad with the right spin, and you know Figaro is all about that spin), Brad struggles to keep the gang together and ends up moving East, and various dominoes fall in so many different ways... I probably won't ever write it (it ended up more of a worldbuilding exercise than a coherent narrative, so idek how to write it. Disjointed scenes would be the only way I could do it I think?) but it's a fun project to look fondly at the documents of LMAO

[chiangyorange]

i love making new dolls to play with <3 PLAY DOLLS WITH ME!!!!

Overall

THE LOST WOODS ARE FINE THEY DONT ACTUALLY BURN IT DOWN (theyre burning the corruption out but it still feels like a loss because after this it burns for DAYS and both pen and quill agonize over their actions because of it)

running with the idea that these two are from the timeline convergence, but before the ancient hero in botw. im personally leaning towards before (so before rauru's reign from totk)

there is no ONE GUY as the big bad-- i wanted to use that idea of how the calamity was less of a Guy and more of an Event, a natural force. so what happened to pen and quill here is the prelude to that

the idea that the moat around the lost woods was man made REALLY COMPELS ME. iirc the water around the forest was never there before?? at least thats what googling many screenshots of the lost woods is telling me

one BIG REASON that i made them both in their mid 20s compared to literally any zelink duo iteration in canon who are a LOT younger is because while those kids are saddled to save a big world and succeed, the adults here are saddled with a similar responsibility, but with a "smaller world" and "fail"

(more notes under here)

Link (Pen)

calico hair!!!! wanted to get sillay with the hair in general so that means THREE colors on the dome

the hair ribbons are a gift from zelda. she told her that the ribbons matched the color of her eyes and that changed her brain chemistry. lmao. gayass.

he has a younger brother (that is still unnamed for now but im tempted to name him colin bc. lol) he love love LOVES him soso much

not really formally trained with using a sword, but his younger brother absolutely drags his ass into learning with him so he knows by proxy

Zelda (Quill)

BIG OL BRAIDS!!! those tassel thingies that frame her face are supposed to replace the crown you normally see in other zeldas. she wears it by literally sewing it into place and her braid plaids are woven into each other. its uber complicated

bugs link a lot to braid her hair even tho hes busy and shes not. he has a bad habit of overworking and annoying him is the only way to get him to stop

this is sort of a timeline placement question too but i REALLY liked botw/totk zeldas blue dress in the memories, the sleeves and silhouette really stuck out to me so i borrowed a lot of elements from that to this one. the belts are definitely a reference older zelda designs though with the tassels

she dresses a lot more casual overall, DEFINITELY only dresses the bare minimum of fanciness of whats expected of her.

[rei-ismyname]

Cyclops, Masculinity, and the Hellfire Club

After Jean walks in on Emma's 'therapy session' with Scott, the two women have a long discussion in which he is not welcome. Scott deals with his feelings by getting drunk by himself at the Hellfire Club. People just will not leave him alone though, starting with this unnamed psychic dancer. She's presumably doing her job under the assumption that this is what men are here for. It's a normative and reasonable assumption, but Scott is pointedly uninterested in participating in this marker of masculinity.

The dancer's words remind us of Emma - telepathy, seduction, and a call to let loose - though there's markers of Jean there too, the wife he hasn't been able to communicate with. He rejects the whole thing as 'sexless and unarousing' instead of a 'no thanks, I'm not in the mood' or similar. Instead of rejecting Emma by proxy, my read is that he's rejecting the physicality of it, compared to the mind sex that's been going on. Also, Scott does a lot of 'calling the shots' - too much even. Exercising sexual, gendered power doesn't appeal to him.

This is nothing Scott hasn't been told before. I'm reminded of the butte sex incident specifically, where Phoenix urged him to 'get out of [his] head' so they could have sex. The dynamic and the power differential made the traditional gender roles hazy.

I think Scott agrees with the dancer here in some ways. He's been viewed as uptight his whole life and there's so many instances where Scott isn't the instigator of sex and intimacy. Here in the Hellfire Club with their regency cosplay the gender roles are super patriarchal. Scott rejects or tries to escape the expectations of traditional gender roles and the art reflects that - shifting from the male gaze to Scott's famous gaze. Interestingly we never see the dancer's face so we don't know who she's presenting as. It's Jean who has the significant association with black lingerie and red hair but it's Emma who's associated with BDSM.

Scott gives an awkward apology and explanation, doing his best to strip the illusions away. I can't help but feel like he's trying to convince himself that his complicated feelings for Emma aren't real but he's not doing a very good job. Why did he even come to the Hellfire Club? There's plenty of places to get drunk without running into people he knows or people that know him. He's wearing his X-Men jacket and his unique visor, not exactly incognito.

He completely avoids eye contact with the dancer and everything is tinted red, suggesting we're seeing everything through his POV. His gaze has a long association with angst and self doubt - I have to wonder how well he 'sees' the person he's making assumptions about. He's not exactly denying her personhood, but he's not especially interested in it either. It's ironic that he'd go to the one club that has a intimacy-free version of both his significant relationships with women at this point. One thing's for sure, he's not interested in performing masculinity, but he's in a space where he can't escape the expectation.

The faceless, nameless dancer eventually leaves. Scott's brief solitude is interrupted by a particular kind of toxic masculinity turned up to 11 - Sabertooth. He approaches from a dominant position in the ancient greek sense, from behind - while pointedly calling Scott 'boy.' He ignores this, and Sabertooth gets in really close to smell his drink, describing it as 'gay.' Deeply childish, but explicitly challenging Scott's masculinity. Creed accuses Scott of 'having issues' in a pretty egregious pot/kettle situation.

Scott responds, but simply by telling him to get out of his face. 'Seriously.' Creed switches to that other marker of masculinity - violence, or at least threats of it. Scott ignores that too, rejecting chest beating and puerile verbal sparring. Sebastian Shaw intervenes and orders Creed to leave Scott alone. Shaw has his own thoughts on exercising patriarchal power, but leaves when Scott isn't interested.

Scott is about to leave because 'his pride can't take it anymore.' He doesn't elaborate on this because he's accosted by probably the most prominent uber masculine person in his life - Logan. Logan accuses Scott of 'making the X-Men look like losers' and it's hard to read this as anything but a gendered challenge. He expands on Creed's judgment of Scott's choice of beverage by implying it's not 'real' (ly masculine) - slamming a bottle of Jack Daniels on the table. Scott's not interested in that either.

Logan doesn't really give Scott a choice, framing it in the context of a challenge. Denying that he's here to convince him to return to the X-Men, he tells Scott that Emma was murdered after he left. Leaving him to chew on that, Logan lays out the stakes of the challenge and departs for the urinal - that most bioessentialist of masculine spaces.

Making the subtext text, Creed follows him in for some insecure dick measuring. Rejecting any kind of serious discussion with an uncharacteristically cerebral Sabertooth, Logan issues violent threats and returns to Scott. It's got massive ex vibes in the best Creed/Logan homoerotic manchild way.

Scott finally opens up, discussing his relationship woes with Logan of all people. He shares how each of them makes him feel, explicitly tying the tension to the boy/man dichotomy. The 'pressure' and 'expectations' feel significant, something he should really talk to Jean about. Unfortunately he's got Logan instead, who's not especially interested in listening at all. He chimes in about Jean, of course, but he's here for tough love.

Scott ponders how anyone could think he'd shoot Emma. Above all he's not going back to the mansion and he's not drunk (or so he claims.) Logan, asshole that he is, suggests Scott should be grateful for what he has. 'You always get the best girls' which has got to be the worst possible thing to say (and super gross). Sure, he's having relationship troubles, but he's trying to figure out his emotions and his trauma. Logan frames this as 'all you do is whine' which is both not true and very rich coming from him.

I've never identified with Scott more than when he says 'I hate you.' Logan manages to make it all about himself, explicitly stating his jealousy. 'All I ever wanted was what you got' accusing him of throwing 'it all away to run wild with the White Queen.' He's right that Jean would like it if he came out of his shell, to a degree, but their problem is one of trauma and communication. Logan's possessive, reductive, and frankly ignorant diagnosis misses the forest for the trees. Scott's problems aren't his problems yet he gets the kind of advice one might expect from this hypermasculine space.

Further minimising Scott's issues, Logan shifts the conversation focus entirely to him. He outright says that Scott's problems are nothing compared to his and guilts him into helping assault The World to uncover Logan's past. He probably would have said yes if he just asked as a friend, but instead he kidnaps him when he passes out. Logan says he's 'trying hard' but doesn't finish the sentence before urging him to put aside his problems.

So instead of talking with his wife or getting to brood alone, Scott ends up hungover on a black ops mission. He got to verbalise some things he'd been keeping bottled up, but in a sense he was assaulted by masculinity and toxic expectations at every turn. Dude needs better friends. The narrative doesn't portray this as a positive thing - in fact it's pretty messed up. I wonder if he regrets going to the Hellfire Club.

Despite the superhero context, Grant Morrison does a swell job of portraying an AMAB person withdrawing from masculine-coded spaces and expectations, at least in my experience. Especially when you're friends with people like Logan, whose only mode is toxic hypermasculinity. I think if he was framed as being unequivocally right it'd be overpowering. Morrison's issues with writing women are on display, but overall this issue is powerful, especially for the time.

[sixtymillionoverdueideas]

The puppet continued to be utterly inert, its face set in a peaceful eternal sleep as it was brought in. Its limbs fell into the natural arrangement that gravity pulled, and so it clung to the Senju, head resting over his shoulder. Curiously, there was a whisper of something to it now, less than an onibi, a faint hint of... curiosity and innocent wonder. A trickle of impression, something that few would be able to notice.... But the Senju was a prodigious sensor.

There is a rather large box before the doorstep to Tobirama's workshop. Stuck to its lid is a little tag that reads in familiar scrawled handwriting, a gift from a busy older brother... Hashirama would be busy with diplomatic ventures for a good few months. The note also notes that Hashirama noticed what appeared to be some Uzushio style fuinjutsu inside the puppet.

Within is the hastily shoved inside, awkwardly curled over itself, form of a Suna-style puppet, about the size of a boy nearly grown into the form of an adult. Its left hand bears a set of four golden rings, mystery fuinjutsu etchings ringing them all around.

Tobirama isn't quite sure what to make of the puppet. A gift from Hashirama was rare ( anything of value outside of alcohol and sweets ), but an item with his wife's iconography and the culture from the desert was certainly an odd choice.

Suspicious, the Senju spare pulled the contents of the box free, hanging it by the shoulders and unravelling the body full length to get a better look at it.

The craftsmanship was impressive. Human-like with perfect smoothness on the shape of it. The glint of gold caught his pale-red eyes, forcing him to attempt to read over them with little success. The sensor in him didn't tip any sort of living-hood on the item outside of its uncanny realism, but nonetheless, he held it to his chest no different one would a toddler and carried it inside.

[rayofmisfortune]

Embrace zero restraint, ramble my child, ramble until the sun explodes /silly /nf

Iiiiii guess I could ramble about some things :3

May as well take this as a chance to ramble about arc 2 since I haven't really talked about it... like at all jfjfjfj

Arc 2 starts some time after Tucker, Sam and Phantom find out the truth about what has happened to the Dannys in the portal accident. There's a lot of trial and error on Tucker and Sam's part when they're trying to find a way for Phantom to be around that isn't a ghost attack. But they figure out how the ghost sense works and how to kinda bypass it. They catch some blob ghosts in a fenton thermos and would release them when they need Phantom around.

Now comes the hard part, convincing the local valiant ghost existence debunker of ghosts actually being real. The entire scene is funny as all hell to me and once again I don't remember if I've talked about it or not. But it involves a phone being shoved in someone's face lmfao

Soooo after the biggest ghost refuser becomes a believer- the Dannys, if reluctantly, make some attempts at communication. Leaving notes for eachother when they can. Text messages. Literally anything.

A fun thing that I plan on writing into a fic happens here so I won't spoil that juuust yet but I can reveal that it involves the Fentons ;3

Vlad would come into play in arc 2 as well I feel like. It would make the most sense. Danny himself doesn't really have a ghost signature so Vlad wouldn't yet know he's Phantom. But ofc it's Vlad so he has suspicions. The Dannys would find out about Vlad in the most hilarious way. Danny's just laying in bed at Vlad's mansion after they've come by cuz of the college party. Boios sound asleep, when suddenly. Ghost sense. Phantom switches in, semi-startled but pleasantly surprised by the comfy covers he woke up under. At this point the Dannys leave messages for eachother to fill eachother in on stuff so he grabs their phone, checks and knows where he is and why.

Anyway Phantom searches around the mansion for the ghost that roused him from being dead to the world (heh) and finds his way into vlad's lab just as vlad detransforms and Phantom's just staring at the display of the ghost seemlessly transforming into vlad masters as his own transformation washes over him. Making eepy Danny in pj's be the one present.

Vlad whom already had his suspicions approaches Danny who is wide awake now. Vlad shifts, Danny's ghost sense activates aaaand it's Phantom again. "Over the top much?" (At Vlad's ghost form lmfao)

Lmfao this became a meeting Vlad ramble but hey, I haven't had this one figured out til now jfnfnf

Also the events here are kinda out of order so make of that what you will jfnfnfnf

THANKS FOR LETTING ME RAMBLE A LIL THO, BERRY!!

[yuesya]

‘Kibutsuji Muzan.’

This was the name of the King of Demons, a heinous monster and unrepentant murderer responsible for untold numbers of atrocities through the ages. Both by his own actions, and by proxy through existing as the progenitor of demonkind��

And most shamefully, one who had been born of the Ubuyashiki bloodline.

The birth of a demon brought down a curse upon the bloodline that gave birth to such a monster; all children born of Ubuyashiki blood are cursed to fall ill and die young, and Ubuyashiki Kagaya is no different. His own father had died young as well, and Kagaya had been trained from an early age to succeed his father’s role as the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. And so his own children followed in his very same footsteps as well. It was cruel to place such burdens on the shoulders of children, but…

There was no other choice.

Thus, Ubuyashiki fastidiously, meticulously carries out his duties and responsibilities as the oyakata-sama.

It was not an easy task that he had inherited from his forebears. The records showed multiple events throughout the Demon Slayer Corps’ history in which the organization itself had been pushed to the brink of total annihilation.

But there is also something to be said for the resilience of humanity, even when faced against the preternatural strength and regeneration of demons that far outstrips anything of human ability. Time and again, the Demon Slayer Corps has held on tooth and nail to overcome adversity and continue moving forward, in hopes of realizing their ultimate goal:

The death of Kibutsuji Muzan, Father of Demons.

Slowly, the pieces were finally falling into place.

Ubuyashiki Kagaya is certain that the current generation of pillars ranks among the highest in terms of their strength in the history of the organization. Then the appearance of young Kamado Tanjiro, and his sister Kamado Nezuko…

And now, the emergence of another new variable.

An unnamed demon slayer. One who had shown herself to be capable of fighting and killing Upper Moon Three.

A girl who had fought and slain Upper Moon Three in the dead of night, without use of a nichirin blade.

It boggled the mind, really –and Ubuyashiki Kagaya dearly hoped to be able to meet the child. To speak with her, and learn of how she had accomplished such a thing, in order that they might be able to use the knowledge against Muzan. To ask the child to lend her strength to the Demon Slayer Corps, for she was most certainly not one of the swordsmen they’d trained.

She did not use any breathing style, Kyojuro had said. Then, what technique had she used, to become capable of fighting on par with a demon?

According to Kyojuro and the young demon slayers who’d been with him that night, the girl had long white hair. As white as the color borne by priestesses of the Himorogi clan, as his dear wife Amane hailed from. But priestesses were not trained to fight, and Amane had confirmed that, of the Himorogi children in this generation, none possessed deep blue eyes.

Who was this child, then? Who was this child who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and slain one of the most powerful demons without even wielding the strength of a sun-blessed blade?

Ubuyashiki Kagaya does not know the answer. But if they can find her again, and enlist her strength, then there is no doubt that they will be one step closer towards ending the horrific terror of Kibutsuji Muzan, once and for all.

[dawnfelagund]

I expect the outcome of these data will surprise no one. Women speak less, and women speak less. This isn't a typo: It means that they have fewer instances of dialogue in The Silmarillion by a substantial margin, and when they do speak, they speak nine fewer words than men, on average.

Instances of women speaking is much nearer to speakers of unknown gender than to men speaking. (And before we get excited and think that the "unknown gender" speakers are rejecting the gender binary, this category represents mostly dialogue attributed to a group, plus two unnamed individuals who are given dialogue and one sword.)

This matters because dialogue signifies several important things in The Silmarillion. First, in a pseudohistorical text like The Silmarillion, direct quotes mean that someone said something important enough to preserve in the historical record. Men, based on the data, are saying far more important things than women, at least in the various narrators' estimation. Next, dialogue is often a proxy to action: Characters debate, give directives, and make speeches. Dialogue also humanizes, and even though Tolkien rejects many modern literary techniques in The Silmarillion, he does use dialogue as a characterization technique. As I will show in future analyses, some characters are distinguishable based on how they speak.

Of course, the reduced dialogue of women in The Silmarllion is a direct effect of there being significantly fewer women than men: Women constitute only 19% of the named characters in The Silmarillion. Even given this, however, women speak less than we would expect.

When we look at character groups, there are notable differences, namely that women of the Ainur speak more than Mortal Human and Elven women do. (Only four Elven women and five Mortal Human women speak in The Silmarillion! Excuse me while I scream!) This was the thesis of the long-ago Inequality Prototype that spurred this data collection endeavor: The Valar, being prototypical, show an equal penchant for entering into the world based on gender: It is a 50/50 split. So we can't say that women have less desire to influence the world than men in the legendarium. When we see less action and fewer instances of dialogue among women, then, we have to ask why.

Complicating the data for the Ainur (overall, not just this set) is the fact that a big chunk of their dialogue occurs in the "Of Aulë and Yavanna" chapter that Christopher Tolkien wrote. I don't want to treat these data differently until I have the opportunity to collect more data on where dialogue outside this chapter comes from; for all I know, Christopher wrote most of it! (Actually, I know he didn't, but this chapter does illustrate how his additions can skew data for a particular group, in this case the Ainur.)

Another future area of inquiry will be the type or purpose of the dialogue and whether/how this varies based on gender. Characters speak for many reasons. Do women speak for different purposes than men?

If these data illustrate anything to me, it is the importance of fanworks in amplifying the voices of women characters who we know existed and know said and did things that mattered. We are being given a historical record much like our own Modern-earth historical record: biased toward the contributions of some over others. Only we can fix that.

---

This is part of my ongoing project The Silmarillion: Who Speaks? The data is available under a CC license for others who wish to play with it: View the data | Copy the data

[apas-95]

“American officials are worried that Ukraine’s adjustments will race through precious ammunition supplies, which could benefit President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia and disadvantage Ukraine in a war of attrition. But Ukrainian commanders decided the pivot reduced casualties and preserved their frontline fighting force.

“American officials say they fear that Ukraine has become casualty averse, one reason it has been cautious about pressing ahead with the counteroffensive. Almost any big push against dug-in Russian defenders protected by minefields would result in huge numbers of losses.” …

In an article published Thursday titled “U.S. intelligence says Ukraine will fail to meet offensive’s key goal,” The Washington Post cited anonymous “U.S. and Western officials” to report that the massive losses Ukraine has been suffering in this counteroffensive had been “anticipated” in war games ahead of time, but that they had “envisioned Kyiv accepting the casualties as the cost of piercing through Russia’s main defensive line.” …

In an article published last month titled “U.S. Cluster Munitions Arrive in Ukraine, but Impact on Battlefield Remains Unclear,” The New York Times reported unnamed senior US officials had “privately expressed frustration” that Ukrainian commanders “fearing increased casualties among their ranks” were switching to artillery barrages, “rather than sticking with the Western tactics and pressing harder to breach the Russian defenses.”

“Why don’t they come and do it themselves?” a former Ukrainian defense minister told The New York Times in response to the American criticism.

The Wall Street Journal reported that unnamed western military officials “knew Kyiv didn’t have all the training or weapons” needed to dislodge Russia, but that they had “hoped Ukrainian courage and resourcefulness would carry the day” anyway. …

In the same article, The Wall Street Journal cited a US Army War College professor named John Nagle admitting that the US itself would never attempt the kind of counteroffensive it’s been pushing Ukrainians into attempting.

“America would never attempt to defeat a prepared defense without air superiority, but they [Ukrainians] don’t have air superiority,” Nagl said, adding, “It’s impossible to overstate how important air superiority is for fighting a ground fight at a reasonable cost in casualties.” …

Last month The Washington Post’s David Ignatius wrote an article explaining why westerners shouldn’t “feel gloomy” about how things are going in Ukraine, writing the following about how much this war is doing to benefit US interests overseas:

“Meanwhile, for the United States and its NATO allies, these 18 months of war have been a strategic windfall, at relatively low cost (other than for the Ukrainians). The West’s most reckless antagonist has been rocked. NATO has grown much stronger with the additions of Sweden and Finland. Germany has weaned itself from dependence on Russian energy and, in many ways, rediscovered its sense of values. NATO squabbles make headlines, but overall, this has been a triumphal summer for the alliance.”

“Other than for the Ukrainians” he says, as a parenthetical aside.

[heardsomedickwasbeinmeantoyou]

“Eddie, you do know that I'm—that I'm yours, right?” Buck's eyes are holding Eddie's gaze like the fate of the world is suddenly at stake. “I mean, I'm yours for whatever you want, y’know? ‘Cause there is nobody else in my life that is... that's you, as in what you are to me, for me, and I'm—I just want you to know that I wanna be that person for you, too; need you to know that I am that person, and that I can be whatever else it is you might need me to be. Or maybe want me to be.” Eddie feels like all the oxygen has suddenly been sucked right out of his kitchen. “You—you get that, don't you, Eds?” 

Christopher once wondered out loud about which beast from the animal kingdom, other than human, would represent each of the three of them and their different personalities, and when Eddie had thought about Buck he'd pictured excitable Golden Retrievers and bounding Dalmatian puppies just as much as the next guy. But the proxy creature he'd been more sure of—and more hesitant to admit likening Buck to—was the Hummingbird, with its astonishingly strong heart that beats at something like nine-hundred times per minute (which Eddie knows about because Buck told him, of course).

Eddie has never known anybody quite like Evan Buckley, with his supercharged and forever-bleeding heart that's pinned so earnestly and so prominently to his shirt sleeve that Eddie's sure it's sometimes visible to the naked eye.

Bar his son, Buck is the greatest person Eddie's ever met.

They weren't always what they are now, though, Buck and him. Not back at the very start. But somehow, one day, somewhere along the line, they just—were.

They became Eddie and Buck. Buck and Eddie.

And this… something, that's simmering between them, it's a thing Eddie couldn't put his finger on for the longest time, couldn't quite make out whenever he attempted to look at it, trying to parse it out and see it for what it really was. It's an emotion he hadn't thought he'd be able to describe, even if he'd wanted to. A brand new feeling for Eddie's collection that he felt forming in the space behind his ribcage, something that bursts forth whenever Eddie looks over to Buck on the job, or at weekends when they take Christopher for days out at the park or the zoo, or whenever Eddie thinks about Buck when Buck's not around. Buck: this long-legged, loyal to a fault smiling guy who has become the best friend Eddie has ever had. Hell, he just feels it all the time. Invisible yet almost tangible, this unnamed something first sprouted like a sapling the day the two of them dug a live fragmentation grenade out of that retired third-grade teacher's thigh, springing up and growing branches that get bigger every day, reaching outward towards the sun to bathe in its warm rays, seeking out life. It grew within Eddie, and it's still growing, spreading out through every part of his life, now, not with the speed or ferocity of a wildfire but a thing similar to climbing roses; slow and steady, delicate yet hardy and strong.

Its true nature has always been just a little to the left of Eddie's range of understanding, though, an almost ethereal thing just slightly out of his reach. For a while, he hadn't dared to examine it all that carefully, or at all. Hadn't known how to, honestly. He now thinks that talking to Frank and embarking on his journey to figure out Who Am I?—trying to find out who Edmundo Diaz is as a person—was probably the start of him working out what this ever-expanding something between him and Buck actually is. 

Eddie came to the conclusion pretty quickly after that, that Evan Buckley, this kind-hearted, wide open, supremely loving giant puppy dog of a person with the heart of a Hummingbird, has become his person. Before Eddie even had the opportunity to notice that their relationship had started to change and morph into something different than what it was at the start, Buck had simply become his partner. In all ways, seemingly. Not just at work, but in life. And Eddie—well. Eddie realised at some point that he was somehow, amazingly, now apparently one hundred percent Buck's person, too. 

The only other soul Eddie has ever gotten close to in that way was Shannon, and sadly everything about their relationship had been so profoundly situational. Eddie thought he'd needed a girlfriend in high school, and Shannon was so, so lovely and had wanted to be that person for Eddie. Then Christopher had unexpectedly come along when they were both still so young, and they'd got married because that was the right thing to do, what Eddie thought he was supposed to do. He then ran away scared, by enlisting, and his life ended up spinning out of control and heading someplace he wasn't old enough to have even imagined, a life he'd somehow acquired and felt he had zero control over.

Not that he'd change any of it. There was happiness in the love he and Shannon had for each other, even if it hadn't quite been the right kind of love, and they'd made a beautiful baby together, a beautiful boy. And after coming home to Christopher after his last tour, at long last, Eddie knew he wouldn't, couldn't, be without that kid ever again.

Christopher was and is the one true shining light in Eddie Diaz's messed up life. 

Until Buck. 

Eddie and Buck, they have chosen each other as partners. And as parents, too—that's the truth of it. And they've gotten so close to each other in such a quiet, gentle way that Eddie hadn't been able to see the wood for the trees, it seems, hadn't realised their dynamic had shifted quite as significantly as it has over the years. Infinitesimally, then bit by bit, but so vastly and so dramatically at the same time.

He and Buck are together. All of the time. Because they choose to be. Because it just feels so damn right for them to be that way.  Together, they are what Eddie believes partners are supposed to be.

At some point it had dawned on Eddie that the two of them, he and Buck, had moved beyond just friends and into… that something. Something else. It had just happened so softly and so seamlessly, and with such unprecedented ease, that even after he'd clocked it, he hadn't really thought to question it because it happily became a thing that just was.

Yeah, Buck and Eddie just kind of... are.

Eddie also doesn't know when exactly it was that the grounding touches they so often share became increasingly more frequent, more important to Eddie, and then softer and more lingering, warm and comforting and completely different to the way either of them touches anybody else, Eddie thinks. Buck has been Eddie's person for what feels like forever, but Eddie started to find more recently that this thing in his chest that is constantly reaching out for Buck, this bond, this something special that they share, it was becoming something that pines and wants and needs, something fragile but at the same time something unerringly and amazingly steadfast.

Like the Hummingbird.

They're an immovable thing, Eddie and Buck. They're Buck and Eddie. They're Eddie and Christopher and Buck. And the three of them, together, are the one thing in Eddie's life that is so assuredly grounding, and so real, that Eddie often feels his chest might burst right open with the force of it.

Together, they've become more.

Eddie learned that when you find your way to that person—your person, the one who makes you feel like even when everything really isn't okay, you having that feeling is okay as long as they are here, with you—it's an unwavering thing, an absolute thing. 

The real thing. 

Eddie looks across his kitchen table at Buck, his Buck, right here and right now, and realises that this something between them is the thing that all those poets throughout the ages have been writing their sonnets about. 

Sunshine. Wildfire. Climbing roses. 

This something—this person, Eddie's person, Eddie's Buck—is standing in front of Eddie, having taken root in Eddie's chest while wearing his Hummingbird heart on his sleeve and offering Eddie a share in his sunshine world.

This something; it's a thing called love. 

Maybe Eddie got there first. Maybe Buck did. Maybe it dawned on them both at the same time, but Eddie knows that they both know it now, he knows it with the way all of Buck's love is radiating out of his body and flowing into Eddie's, like a shared life-force or magic or some cosmic shit Eddie knows he doesn't really need to comprehend. 

I'm yours, Buck told him moments ago.

Eddie takes a breath, and begins.

“I'm yours, too, Buck. All yours. It's you and me, man. Together. You and me and Christopher, because I know just how much you love him...” and he doesn't dare add what is the hopefully implied ‘too’ at the end of his declaration, but only because he doesn't know how to say it out loud, just yet. 

Until he very much does, barely a second into Buck nodding and beaming like Texas sunshine and saying, “You do get it,” and Eddie knows absolutely that he can say it, now.

So he does.

“Yeah, Buck. I do. Because I love you, mi Colibrí. I love you.”

Buck surges, becoming that wildfire as he rounds Eddie's kitchen table, their table, and Eddie stands to meet him, his Buck, his unstoppable force, his best friend, his heart, and Eddie's chair is clattering to the floor as they grab onto each other, big handfuls of shirts and arms and faces and napes of necks, gripping tightly and hanging on for dear life because maybe the fate of the world, their world, really is at stake after all. 

Yet stood here in Eddie's kitchen, together, holding each other, Eddie somehow knows they both understand that their world can't actually be tipped on its axis so easily, not by injuries or natural disasters or even The Great Unknown. Buck and Eddie can't be shaken so hard they come apart at their seams because like everything else in their lives, they're in this together.

Eddie and Buck, Buck and Eddie. They'll figure this thing out.

Together. 

Buck is standing so close that Eddie can feel warm breath on his cheeks, a definite panting that mirrors Eddie's, both their chests now heaving with the air that's crackling between them, eyes roaming all over each other's faces and then Buck's baby blue's settle on Eddie's mouth and Eddie's follow suit, and he's amazed at just how pink Buck's lips are this close up and all he can comprehend in this moment is that he doesn't think he's ever wanted a person so much in his entire fucking life, has never felt the pull of want and need and home as strongly as he does right here and right now, for his best friend. His partner. His Colibrí. 

His Buck.

“Buck, I want—” Eddie's yearning is so loud he can't even finish his sentence. 

“Me too,” Buck helps, and he's leaning in a little further, tentatively and so damn slowly that Eddie wants to scream at him to get on with it but also wants to freeze-frame them in amber because this is the moment that he knows, really knows; the moment Eddie has been trying to uncover; the rose bush and its branches, the fire, the sunshine; the moment Eddie finally understands what it is that he feels for this man now in his arms, knows exactly what their something is and what it was all along; the moment Eddie has been unknowingly and unbelievably hoping, hoping, hoping would arrive someday.

Today, Eddie thinks, and he can't wait any longer so he kisses Buck and Buck kisses him back and Eddie knows, then, inherently, that Buck loves him, too. 

[END]

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

inspired by and a tribute to one of the loveliest fics i've ever read: OF HUSHED WORDS AND HUMMINGBIRDS by the hugely talented procannibals on ao3... you should absolutely click the link to go read it and show it all the love it deserves! btw the themes of hummingbirds as a metaphor, plus eddie's question of 'who am i?` here belong entirely to mo (procannibals) and the fic linked that i've just mentioned.

this is also on ao3 HERE (published as 'Today') if you'd like to be so kind to pop across there and leave me a comment xp

[xaloncat]

DANDYS WORLD AU STUFF!!

co owned by @unnamed-proxy and my offsite bestie

It's called 'post ichor operation au' and deals with the hypothetical showing what would happen if Astro was able to eventually save himself and his friends from the whole ichor thing!

Dandy who was forced to do this to begin with struggles with the #consequences to his actions while his close companions are all healing.

So ya that's the gist!!

Oh also Dandys leg is broken so pebble is like a service dog and helps him get around

[alistonjdrake]

A Woman of No Importance : Wedding Dresses

Most of these are about Princess Mathilde's dresses which makes sense she gets married the most amount of times and this does not even cover all of her marriages ( at least nine). Also before anyone shouts that white wedding dresses are modern her choice to wear white for her fourth wedding btw is explained in the next line.

The child bride part is from a piece written by an unnamed source but clearly is talking about Cierra given context clues. However, Cierra describes her wedding dress as green and not golden. I've decided this is NOT a mistake but Cierra does technically have 2 wedding days (she marries by proxy and then has another ceremony when she meets Notker) so she likely wore two but only gives significance to one.

In looking for all these I discovered nothing is written about Edelgard's wedding.

The Early Ages was a fraught time for a budding country, and no one knows that better than historian Sabina Sphar, whose deep dive into one long-gone country leads to an obsession with two women held responsible for its downfall. The year is 946 W.C. and King Oswald of Vilsland has just ordered the execution of his once beloved aunt, Princess Mathilde. Now wanted for treason, Princess Mathilde seeks refuge in her childhood home, currently occupied by a woman who holds a powerful grudge. Twenty years ago, Cierra Dimmock and Princess Mathilde were rivals in the midst of a bloody game of intrigue and court manners. One was a standing regent struggling to keep her grasp on the court and the other the new, foreign wife of a prominent duke. Their feud resulted in one being jailed and the other humiliated. Now, the tables have turned and Cierra is a wealthy widow and Dowager Duchess while Princess Mathilde is an exile looking for political asylum. In a moment of pity, Cierra allows her old enemy to spend the night in her home. Their fates will be sealed by morning and this decision could cost both women their lives. But what is certain is that their country and history will never be the same.

Told through interviews, land deeds, court diaries, letters, Cierra’s own narration, and the musings of several historians. A Woman of No Importance tells the story of a rotten feud between two middle-aged women but also the ill-fated history of Vilsland and how the interactions of these characters wiped it off the map.

Please ask to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @thelittlestspider @thelaughingstag

[donkoogrr]

Mitch Grayson might be my isekai self-insert proxy but that's not hurting anyone

Sorry y'all, it's story time. When I was a kiddo my siblings and I got to see the Batman Forever movie in theatre - you know, the one where Dick was around 21 and had an unnamed older brother? My older sister quickly called dibs on having Robin as her favorite character and, as imperious older siblings do, assigned me to having his brother as my favorite. So, I dutifully admired my tragic hero for several months until I realized that my guy only existed in one movie and had no appearances in comics or merch or anyone's memory.

Lately though, decades later, he's been constantly on my mind. I think the reveal of the nameless Prodigy and Dick's older half-sister Melinda as characters wove some new paths in my memory banks or something, because "Mitch Grayson" is just resonating. (Maybe, just maybe, Dick was always meant to be a younger brother.)

Imagine the classic Robin origin, but with Mitch as an older brother; how would things change? Who would Mitch be?

In my head, it's Batman, Robin, and Hoodlum, not the Dynamic Duo but the Terrific Trio. I imagine Mitch as being a few shades more angry, a little harder hitting than his baby brother. He'd be 12/13 to Dick's 8/9, and I imagine he'd be as obnoxiously protective and smothering as a traumatized older sibling, fiercely and almost rabid to protect the only blood family he has left. He's meaner and it'd take more effort on Batman's part to convince him not to merc Zucco. Mitch admits to having a different idea of justice than Batman, but is willing to keep to his foster father's rules.

Mitch is, perhaps, enough of a little shit to drive Batman into reading self-help and parenting books, if not outright therapy.

I think Dick would still bounce to form the Titans eventually, but this time without being fired and kicked out of his home. Definitely would be after a fight, though. Something about having two overprotective, high-handed assholes always trying to keep him grounded. Mitch is perhaps unhealthily codependent.

Despite his little brother leaving the city, Mitch stays firmly in Gotham. It's partly because he knows that he'd otherwise just follow Dick around and his brother's right that that isn't healthy. Mitch has to grow and face his own struggles with letting his loved ones live independently. He's very much like Bruce in this way.

In his civilian life, Mitch is a lawyer who focuses on introducing superhero protection measures, especially for younger heroes. A lot of laws he bases off of the ones for child performers regarding caretakers, pay, schooling, etc. If an adult cape is going to mentor a young cape, that adult better be ready to prove they can provide for that kid, including their mental health and also a way to leave the cape lifestyle should the kid want the out.

Also, provisions for cape-on-cape crimes. Specialized court procedures for people with secret identities, so they can testify or defend themselves legally.

Maybe in this universe he happens to be shadowing Harvey Dent on a certain day. Maybe he stops the events that lead to Two-Face.

Mitch is shorter than Dick, more physically like the traditional acrobat. Where Dick has their father's build and their mother's features, Mitch has a more willowy athleticism and their father's jawline. His Hoodlum uniform has a full mask once he hits puberty and grows a mustache like John Grayson's.

He is unapologetically gay. His social media accounts have steady uploads of the aerial routines he still does, along with silks and hoops and gymnastics. All those Waynes are thrill-seekers, after all. Sometimes he can be convinced to perform at Haly's or in a music video.

There's an incident over a year after he and Jason nearly die in a warehouse in Ethiopia. The Joker very publicly is holding a Wayne gala hostage and is live streaming the event. So it's very publicly seen that Mitch Grayson very purposefully swings a heavy antique chair at the Joker's head.

The trial is held outside of Gotham due to Mitch being unlikely to have a fair one as a well known Gotham celebrity and lawyer. It's an open-and-shut case of self-defense, though the prosecutor leans hard into Mitch's testimony that he'd known the chair would kill the Joker if he managed to land the hit. Mitch cites the trauma of being in the Joker's power again as being the reason why he chose to use lethal means - it's very Ender's Game; "Knocking him down won the first fight. I wanted to win all the next ones, too, right then, so they'd leave me alone."

He does some time in prison. The notoriety keeps him from falling into Amanda Waller's hands. #freemitch trends on Chirper in Gotham the whole time. Mitch and Bruce have several deep conversations about justice, and killing, and love.

Hoodlum loves the Robins; Hoodlum loves Batman; Hoodlum loves Gotham; Hoodlum loves his family.

Hoodlum eventually becomes Jason's title when he's grown up from Robin and ready to carefully and obnoxiously b(r)other the new kid. Tim soars in the Flying Grayson's colors and can always depend on his Hoodlum.

Mitch's new helmet looks like a snarling gargoyle. His colors are muted, but there's still a flash of red-yellow-green somewhere on him.

Grotesque takes to the skies and Mitch flies with his family.

[baldy-wan-kenobi]

An Introduction to the False Peace

It has been fifty years since the Final Armistice was signed, ending the Long War that consumed the world for three centuries, plunging mankind from its very height into a new dark age.

In its aftermath, the nations of old are gone, replaced with vast swathes of desolate and inhospitable nothing punctuated only by ancient installations and the gleaming spires of the City-States.

Sanctuary and Citadel in one, the City-States are massive, heavily protected fortresses each enclosing thousands of square miles, housing a population of millions, as well as the industry required to sustain them. They are everything to those who live within: Safety from roving bandits and scavengers, Shelter from the fearsome and enigmatic storms that kill and mutate with fell energies, and a chance to Survive, in the last remaining bastions of civilization in a ruined world.

However, humanity is not content within these confines. Even as the dust settles, and storms of esoteric energy ravage the world, corporations and City-States are growing bolder and bolder in seeking conflict, driven by greed, ambition, and a lust for conquest. Despite the best efforts of the valiant Knights of Svalbard, equipped with unimaginably powerful technology from the World that Was and charged with the task of safeguarding human life, total war seems an inevitability.

In this time of False Peace, everyone has a hidden agenda, and those with power are always on the lookout for the piece of Old World Tech that will allow them to finally destroy their enemies, and in that desire, opportunity lurks…

You are a Tinman, one of many mercenaries piloting the war machines known as "Frames", contracted by the various corporate powers and City-State security forces of the world to fight their proxy wars and delve into the ancient ruins of once-mighty nations, to plumb their depths for the technological wonders that lie within. However, this task is not without danger, for these ruins are not so abandoned as they might appear. Within squalid bunkers and empty garrisons, ancient and mindless constructs awake, artificial minds bound to the will of masters centuries dead, and determined to safeguard their secrets to the bitter end…

Hey, everybody! So, this is the introduction/Primer to my as-yet-unnamed, semi-original Sci-Fi setting, taking heavy inspiration from the Armored Core games, the Battletech universe, and the Cyberpunk setting. From now on, I'll be posting various informative things about the universe, from faction overviews, exposition about worldbuilding elements, and progress as the eventual TTRPG takes shape!